1) First Encounters
by jenna-ln
Summary: Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood, Weevils. These are words from Anwen's half-remembered bed time stories. Gwen Cooper is dead Rhys is succumbing to Alzheimer's young and Anwen has no where to turn when she happens across a weevil on the job. She teams up with her partner Carwyn Adams to try and find out more about the mysterious institution only to find herself in deep trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1) First Encounters**

"Good evening sir my name is Officer Anwen Williams this is my partner Carwyn Adams. We received a call from a neighbor of yours they seemed to believe there had been some sort of disturbance. May we come in?" I asked smiling as politely as possible. I had checked the records on the property before coming and knew that this was the third call in three days. The statistic alone made it seem unlikely that Mr. Hanley would cooperate. Judging by the expression on the stout man's face he wasn't about to let us in. He just stood there behind the door with the chain in place scowling. "Please sir, we just need to take a peak make sure everyone's alright and then we can be on our way."

"I already called the proper authorities myself, now bugger off," he snapped slamming the door.

Carwyn sighed and knocked on the door again. "Mr. Hanley this is the police and we are here to help now please open the door, sir."

"It's always the ugly ones isn't it," I whisper. Car's no-nonsense-policeman expression cracked and he smiled. "What did he mean by 'proper' authorities, I wonder?"

"God knows this one's a nutter. You know last year alone he called in five times about alien sightings?" Carwyn said rolling his eyes. He paused. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I asked. We were very quiet and then I heard it, the sound of glass shattering followed by...

"Blood hell, is that… an animal?" Carwyn drew his gun and I followed his lead.

"Mr. Hanley, we are coming in!" he shouted before kicking in the door. Mr. Hanley was face down in the front hall, there was a huge chunk missing from his neck and blood was pooling around the body. We heard a crash. I loped over Mr. Hanley, gun at the ready, and moved to the back of the house. There was a sliding glass door leading out of the kitchen that was broken. I could see the huge back of someone bald and wearing blue coveralls running out the back gate.

"Anwen, we need to call this in and wait for back up," Carwyn called from the front.

"I can see him running away, we need to catch and question him," I called back. I strapped my gun into my belt and started running. In school I'd been a track runner, won a few minor medals that my dad had kept on the walls of our house until the day we sold it. Being quick came in handy every once in a while, especially as a cop, but this bloke was much faster than I would have anticipated given his size.

I pursued him down the backs of houses for almost a block before the man ran out into the road and a black SUV flew around the corner. The driver hit the brakes and squealed to a stop but it was too late. The man rolled over the roof shrieking a god-awful sound unlike any I'd ever heard before and landed behind the vehicle. The driver and his passenger got out of the car swiftly and opened the back of the car.

"Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?" I demand when the passenger, a young woman with olive skin and dark hair, pulled out a hypodermic needle and stuck the end into my witness. "That man is a witness to murder and possible suspect…"

I stopped short when I got a better look at the… man? His skull appeared to be elongated with massive jaws like an ape. He had no nose but two slits for nostrils. There was also a stink about him, like rot and sewage.

"What sort of deformity is that?" I muttered feeling bewildered.

"What makes you so sure it's not a mask, officer?" the driver asked with an American accent. I turn and look at him. He was a pretty man smiling like we'd bumped into each other at the park, tall, dark hair, nice cheek bones, and wearing a long trench coat like the sort one might see in a film based in World War II. He grabbed the thing under the arms and started lifting it into the car. "A bit of help officer?"

"Absolutely not! That is a murder suspect and besides everything is mass produced now-a-days I've never seen a mask that real or that… grotesque. He'd need to be some sort of movie-make-up genius to make it. And you can't move him I need to call an ambulance and my partner." The pair ignored my protests and finished pulling the thing into the car.

"Don't sweat it, officer just tell your superiors Torchwood is handling the case. Nice work by the way. Maybe we'll see each other again," he said shaking my hand and winking. I could only stare as they closed the back, climbed back into the car and drive away. The name gave me pause. It was a name I'd heard a thousand times from my father over the years. But for all my internet research I had never found out what exactly Torchwood was and father never explained it.

I pulled out my walkie and reported what had happened. I needed to get back to Hanley's house and help process the scene with Carwyn. I had to stifle a groan at the thought of Car. He was not going to be impressed with me abandoning him at a murder scene to chase a… thing. I jogged back the way I'd come but when I arrived at the house there were only two cars out front, both of them police. Where was the coroner or paramedics (if the man had still been alive)? There were no detectives just the first responding car and Carwyn. He was wiping off his hands with a bloody towel, eyes down, and mouth set in a frown.

"Where is everybody?" I asked.

"Didn't you hear me tell you to wait?" Carwyn snapped.

"I thought I could catch him. Where is the coroner and the forensics guys don't they need to process the scene?"

"Well clearly you didn't catch him. The coroner isn't coming the case is being covered by some bloody special ops organization called Torchwood. While you were off trying to be some sort of hero they came by and took the body," he threw down the towel and got into the car. The other set of cops were setting up crime scene tape and talking to the neighbors. I ducked into the car after him.

"Has this happened before? Torchwood, I mean, stealing cases from the police department?"

"Not since I've worked here. According to Davidson though Torchwood has been around for decades," he said pulling out of Hanley's driveway.

"When did you talk to Davidson about Torchwood?"

"When I called in that Torchwood was taking the case and I was waiting around for you to show up again. Speaking of which he wants to see you when we get back to the station."


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2) Questions**

It was a long and silent car ride back to the station. Carwyn was angry then but our history dictated he was going to lighten up eventually, he always did. There were more important things to think about than when my partner was going to forgive me for running off. I walked through the too familiar police station and smiled at my coworkers, greeted my friends, and tried not to let them know what I was going on inside my head. I started up the stairs to Deputy Chief Andy Davidson's office. There was a reason why I decided to become a cop. My mother had been one too. She'd worked for years in this very department with Andy Davidson. He'd come to my birthday every year until I was old enough to think birthday parties were childish. He sent a card every Christmas and visited my Dad when he could. Most importantly he came to Mum's funeral.

I stopped outside his door and took a deep breath before knocking.

"Come in," he called from the desk. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Why did I feel like a kid about to be scolded for peaking at the Christmas presents? Andy was old. There is no other way to describe him now, he'd been balding for as long as I can remember and now when I look at him behind the desk it's hard to imagine he'd ever stood in my shoes. Hard to think he'd ever chased down a suspect or stood in the rain waiting for a crime scene to be processed. He looked up at me and smiled making the skin around his eyes crinkle. He set aside some files and folded his hands in front of himself.

"It's good to see you, sir. May I ask what this is about?"

"Please Anwen, have a seat, I just wanted to invite you up here for a little chat is all," he said getting up and rustling about in the drawers of his desk. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and a pair of glasses.

"Sir, is that appropriate?" I asked feeling startled. Andy Davidson was a man who obeyed the rules. The idea he'd be storing alcohol at work was so ridiculous she was certain she was seeing things.

"It is for what we have to chat about. Would you like a glass?" he asked after pouring himself a shot.

"No thank you, sir," I answered. He downed his shot in one swing then immediately began pouring a second.

"So I hear you were at the Hanley house today," he phrased it like a question but he knew the answer. I simply nodded. "Did you see anything strange there?"

I opened my mouth to lie the shut it quickly. Andy had been my mother's friend for years. He knew her almost as well as my dad did. There was no point in lying. I'd spent the whole ride back to the station mulling over what I'd seen and there was a name for what I'd seen. A name half forgotten from a story told a long time ago. A name I suppose I wasn't meant to remember at all.

"I saw a weevil. That man Hanley he was murdered by a weevil," I answered watching Davidson's expression. He pursed his lips and then drank another shot.

"Who told you it was a weevil?"

"No one. I guessed it."

"Did your mother tell you about weevils?"

"No, sir. I mean, not on purpose. I think I might have heard her talking about them with my dad. Ages ago now," I stuttered. "Sir, what is Torchwood?"

He sat there quietly for a long while as if unsure of what to say or how much. He let out a sigh, "Torchwood is a special operations unit that works outside of the government. Way back in 2006 your Mum was offered a job there and she took it. I don't know any more than that and even that is more than most folks are supposed to know."

"That can't be all you know and by what rights do they steal cases from the police department. If they don't work for the government then who do they work for?"

"I told you I don't know, Anwen. Please I did not ask you up here to talk to you about Torchwood or the past."

"Then why call me up here and talk about it?"

He stood up, walked around the desk and held my hands. The look on his face aged him and it zapped the questions from my throat. It was an old, tired, worried expression.

"Don't go looking for them, Anwen. That is all we ask of you, me, your parents, this department. Torchwood is dangerous. You're mother died while working there and they would never say how or why. Don't go looking for Torchwood, Anwen."

_Don't go looking for Torchwood_. They say it like Torchwood is a synonym for trouble. Or danger. Andy was giving me the rest of my shift off so I swung by my apartment and picked up the macaroons my roommate made then started for St. Winifred's Nursing home. The day I had to commit Dad was one of the worst days of my life second only to Mum's death. He suffers from Alzheimer's and when I told him he was going to be living in a home he started to cry and beg. He thought that it was Miracle Day. I was only a baby at the time but my parents had lived through that nightmare. Mum had lost friends and my granddad. I read about Miracle Day in school like it was distant history but when I was driving Dad to the hospital he thought I was taking him to the ovens.

I parked my car in the usual spot. I liked to park as far from the building as the parking lot would allow. I know it might seem weird but I enjoy the walking, it's time for thinking. Dad has to be here, I need my job or I'll never be able to afford a place to stay or food but Dad needs around the clock care. We held on as long as we could but the day our neighbors called 911 because he was having a fit there was nothing left to do.

The nursing home was lovely on the outside with its healthy green lawns, sprawling gardens, and pristine white walls. It was the best nursing home in Cardiff. I approached the front desk with the macaroons under my arm and smiled at the nurse at the reception. Pod was a regular and he recognized me immediately. Friendly bloke always flirts a little. However, today I wasn't feeling up for a chat.

"How's my Dad doing?" I asked.

"He's actually having a good day it's great that you're coming to see him. Don't you usually wait for the weekend though?"

"Yeah but I got off early today so I thought I'd drop off some snacks," I said holding up the tin of macaroons.

"Don't mind if I do," said Pod taking two. While walking to Dad's room he complimented my cooking and tried at small talk. Mostly about football and whether I had any exciting cop stories for him.

_Sorry, Pod but not today_.

I knocked on his apartment door before opening it. It was a bit snug compared to my apartment. Dining area and living room were all one thing with a kitchen (not that Dad ever uses it) separated by some counters. Dad was on the couch watching the TV but he looked up when I came in and smiled.

"Anwen, I wasn't expecting you," he said cheerily getting to his feet. Unlike Andy Davidson my dad still had all his hair it'd just gone grey. I put the macaroons on the counter and gave him a hug. My stomach hurt at the thought of the questions I needed to ask him.

"I know but some things happened at work and Andy gave me the rest of the day off."

"You didn't kill anybody did you?" he asked smiling at his joke but when he looked at my face a bit longer his smile fell away. "What happened sweet heart?"

"Torchwood happened," I answered. Dad frowned and looked away his face wrinkling with anger. "Today at work I was called to a disturbance and when I got there, there was this thing, I think it's called a weevil and it killed a man…"

"Bloody fucking Torchwood wasn't bad enough they take your Mum now they're meddling in your life too," he barked throwing the remote.

"Dad please I'm sorry to bring it up but I need to ask you some questions. What exactly is Torchwood?"

"Trouble! That's all Torchwood is. It is trouble and that Harkness. Bastard Jack Harkness. He's the king of trouble that one."

"Who is Jack Harkness, Dad? You've mentioned him before. Please don't be angry I just want to know who these people are," I begged feeling tears in my eyes. I'd rather be back at Hanley's chasing the weevil or at an armed robbery anything but here with my Dad causing him pain.

"Don't go anywhere near him, Anwen. Or he'll kill you too just like my Gwen and all the others. Everyone dies around him. Anwen, please don't be like your Mum just do as I tell you and stay _away_ from Torchwood and Captain Jack Harkness!"

Pod and another nurse came into the room one was holding a needle. I cried and begged them to leave him but they said it wasn't good for his health to get too "excited". Dad kicked and threw his arms about still screaming and then he quieted as the drugs entered his bloodstream. When I left Dad was unconscious in his bed with a nurse hovering. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I ran to my car, slammed the door shut and a sob ripped from my chest. I knew this would happen but no. No, I had to go and ask anyway. He'd been having a good day but the mention of Torchwood sent him spiraling just like every time before.

I was beginning to fear "bloody Torchwood," would be the last thing I'd hear my Dad say.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3) A Dream of a Dream**

_"The itsie bitsie spider walked up the water spout…"_

_ The smell of bangers and mash is wafting from the kitchen door way. I stop coloring my picture and peak inside to see Dad standing by the stove looking at the clock on the wall. I can hear the news lady talking and water boiling. Mum called Dad to say she was coming home from work early today. She is going to eat dinner with us. Tuesday is usually spaghetti night but because Mum is coming home Dad is making her favorites. We even stopped at the grocer to get ice cream on the way home from school. I can't wait to show her my drawings and tell her about recess. Maybe Dad will forget to mention the thing miss teacher said about the scary stories and Mum will tell me about her day at work._

_ "Down came the rain and washed the spider out…"_

_ "What's that you're drawing sweet heart?" Dad asked leaning around the corner._

_ "It's a weevil catcher. For Mum to use at work," I declare proudly holding up my picture. "That's the weevil in pink."_

_ "You know that weevils are just scary stories right?"_

_ "No they're not. Mum says she catches them for her job so that they can't jump out and scare people," I told him indignantly. He shakes his head and goes back into the kitchen. I pick up my black crayon and start drawing the hair on Mum. _

_ "Daddy, I forget the rest of the itsie spidie song!" _

_ The doorbell rang and I jump to my feet, race across the front hall and slide on my socks to the door. I peak through the window and see its raining. There is a man at the door wearing a long coat with no hood and no umbrella. There was ketchup all over his hands._

_ "Daddy there's a silly man at the door!" _

_ "I'm coming. Don't open the door sweet heart," Dad called from the kitchen. I run to the bathroom and grab some toilet paper from the roll to give to the man with ketchup on his hands. I hear the door open and I start sock sliding to the hall._

_ "What in hell's name is this Jack? Where's Gwen?" I hear my dad say when I come around the corner into the hall._

_ "Here silly," I say holding out the tissues smiling. The man just stares at me he doesn't say anything he just looks with sad eyes. He reaches for the tissues but Dad blocks him which seems rude._

_ "Anwen, go back to your pictures," Dad says in his angry voice._

_ "But…"_

_ "Now," he snaps. I scurry off quickly dropping the paper. Dad almost never gets angry I don't want him to start yelling at me. "Where is Gwen, Jack? What's happened?" I sit at the edge of the doorway and peak around. Dad is standing in between me and the silly man. His hands are fists and they are shaking at his sides._

_ Silly man is speaking but I can't hear what he's saying. Then Dad sobs. The sound surprises me; it is a completely alien sound that Dad has never made before. Daddies aren't supposed to cry! Panic wells up inside me and tears sprung to my eyes. I bite my lip and listen to Dad cry and the man saying "I'm sorry." I run to my room, slam the door shut, turn out the lights and crawl under the bed._

Down came the rain and washed the spider out…

I woke up to the sound of my radio alarm giving me the weather forecast. Apparently it will be all sun shine and rainbows today, get out your galoshes and shovels there will be a pot of gold around every corner. I smack the snooze button and sit up with my eyes closed. I forgot to close the blinds last night and now the sun was pouring in brighter than it had any right to be. The dream fragments disappeared into the air before I could piece them together and remember what I'd dreamt. Something to do with Dad and rain? I slid out of bed put on my slippers and dragged myself into the kitchen. Jessica, my roommate, works as a "freelance journalist" which was code for sleeps in until noon drinks all night and is often on the phone asking her parents for money. I'm not judging I like Jess but sometimes it'd be nice if she made coffee in the mornings and acted like she worked mortal hours. I turned on the news station and waited for the coffee to finish. I raked my hands through my hair and checked the messages on my phone. I had one missed call from Carwyn the only message he left was asking I call him back.

I decided to leave message answering until after the coffee kicked in. There was no mention on the news of Torchwood or of weevils. Not that I expected there to be. My head ached and yesterday felt like some sort of demented dream or a nightmare. Maybe when my head clears I'll find it _was_ all a dream.

I drove to work and went through my morning routine as if I was a bystander watching as someone else moved my body about talking to people, smiling, and laughing. I slump into my desk and that's when I notice a fat brown file sitting on my key board.

"TORCHWOOD" was stamped onto the front in big block letters so no one could mistake what was inside it.

"Breathe, just breathe. Don't open it, Anwen, do what Dad and Andy said don't open it," I repeated to myself as I picked up the file and let it fall open in my hands. It opened to a police report dating back to 2011 stating the reinstatement of the Torchwood protocols. Effectively stating that all officers were to offer complete cooperation to the Torchwood institution should they see it fit to intervene in any cases. A brief description akin to what Davidson had said the day before but this time stating that Torchwood was established in 1871 to "combat phantasmal aura and the Doctor" but had since turned to other goals. It also contained a few reports on cases since 2011 that Torchwood had taken from the police. Two personnel files of people I didn't know who'd been recruited for Torchwood over the past 20 years a quick search through the police databases showed both were deceased. There was also a newspaper clipping, my Mum's obituary.

"It's not much but it's everything we had on Torchwood." I spun in my chair to see Carwyn hovering over my shoulder smiling his gape-toothed smile. "When we got back to the station yesterday I realized I had been a bit of a twat about this whole Torchwood business and the Hanley case."

"So this is supposed to be a peace offering?" I asked.

"Well yes. You got to admit there is some spooky stuff in there folks going missing, mutilated bodies, cops who never come back…" I smacked him hard with the file and he jumped back.

"My Mum worked for these people, Carwyn. Died on the job," I smacked him again. "This supposed to make me feel better or something?"

"I'm sorry I thought you were curious…"

"Well I'm not now," I snapped putting the folder into my desk. "I'm not interested in learning anymore about Torchwood."

"So I guess after work I'll go drop off the rest of the Hanley files by myself," he said sliding into the desk beside me. He opened a file and started whistling as he worked. I ground my teeth together and threw an eraser at him.

"I hate you."

"I know," he said smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4) Games**

The address that we were supposed to drop the files at was on the edge of Cardiff a few kilometers outside the city boarder. It was an industrial park all concrete and rusted old buildings. Carwyn was certainly over his frustrations from the Hanley house. He was really excited about this chatting away about the phone call he'd received from some Torchwood operative asking for our reports. I wish I could share the euphoria but the farther we got from Cardiff the less certain I was of what I was doing. Was I going to introduce myself and see if anyone there remembers my Mum? Am I going to be able to learn more about these half-forgotten bed time stories or find that my Mum was only ever telling stories? Would it change what I thought of her if they were only stories?

A million questions buzzing about and nowhere for them to go. I hope I did a good show of being happy for Carwyn though. It was an awful bit of trouble getting out there. They'd given him some GPS coordinates to find, we had to stop at a hardware store and get a proper GPS to find it.

"This place looks completely abandoned," I said squinting out the window at the graffiti-coated warehouses. The taggers seemed to be fond of the phrase "bad wolf." It was in big bulbous letters on the front of the warehouse that the GPS led us to.

"Well Torchwood is a shady institution isn't it. I mean it's practically ancient but no one has heard of it. They cover missing children's cases, murders, I think there was one in there about a rich man stealing money from the government. I mean, what does it all add up to?" he said hoping out of the car following the GPS.

I sighed and climbed out of the car, call it paranoia or a cop's instinct but something was seriously off. No one at the station knew anything about Torchwood except Andy but I think people would have remembered getting sent out to the edge of nowhere to drop files. I especially couldn't see Andy doing this part by himself.

"Do you know who it was you spoke to on the phone, Car?" I asked glancing around. It seemed strange. With the recession poverty was supposed to be on the rise. A good abandoned place like this ought to be crawling with beggars and junkies. Even without a recession, gangs might at least stick around to do more than scribble "bad wolf" on the walls.

"Anwen, you have got to see this!"

"Car?" I called turning to see just an open door leading into the warehouse. I stand in the door way and look in at the dark. I'd gotten changed out of my police uniform back at the station and was starting to wish I'd brought my belt at least. I had a torch for situations like this on my belt. At least I'd brought my gun. "What is it? What do you see?"

I draw and point into the dark. It was pitch black inside except for a single flashing green light. I could see the outline of a figure near the light.

"Carwyn Adams? This is not funny and you left your keys in the ignition. I'd like to see you walk back to Cardiff if you don't stop jerking around by the time I count to ten," I shout into the dark. There was no response. "One!"

I feel against the wall looking for some sort of light switch and praying that I don't step on a needle or anything. My runners were old and I wouldn't bet on them keeping out a heroine needle or a well placed shard of glass. The figure just stood still it didn't move but to turn its head.

"Two… Three…"

There was a metallic _clank_ ringing through the black followed by silence. A rat probably? My heart started pounding in my ears and at the back of my mind all I could hear was Dad and Andy telling me that Torchwood was trouble. Was this some sort of set up?

"Four… Five…" I count backing away from the door and glancing around from side to side. Then there was a gnarled sound echoing inside the warehouse. I froze. "Carwyn?"

A roar erupted from inside the warehouse a roar I'd heard only just the other day. There was a horrid scream, the green light turned red and the figure began running.

"Carwyn?" I shouted backing towards the car struggling to keep my hands still, pointing the gun at door. "Carwyn answer me now!"

The figure burst into the sun light snarling and gnashing its teeth. A weevil. Like the one at Hanley's house a big snarling weevil. Its lips were dripping with blood, it stopped and looked from side to side then directly at me. It threw back its head howling then charged. I fired, once, twice, and the thing kept running towards me. I grabbed the door handle on the car and dove inside pulling the door shut. However, the weevil rammed into the side and started pounding on the door. Eyes rolling in it head and bellowing an unearthly howl it smashed the window. I climbed across the front seats gun in hand I fired two more times this time both hit the weevil in the head. The creature shuddered then collapsed in the window frame.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and slumped against the window. I stared into the dead eyes of the creature. "Mum, what on earth were you doing?"

I open the door and walk around the car to the creature. I take a few pictures with my phone and hoist it off the door and drag it a few paces back from the car and drop it. I've been a cop for about a year now. I've never shot anybody. I wasn't naïve I knew I would eventually shoot someone I'd just figured I'd know who or what I'd shot. The thing was wearing coveralls but its pockets were empty. It reeked as if it'd come crawling out of a sewer.

I walk back to the warehouse and look inside.

"Carwyn?"

"Your friend is dead," I spun, gun up to see a man holding a huge hunting rifle dressed like he just got back from the safari. He appeared to be in his mid fifties, graying and years of beer and chips catching up on him. Behind him there was a pair of men sitting in a jeep staring and silent, eyes hidden by dark sun glasses.

"Are you Torchwood?" I asked.

"No, I'm not Torchwood but it was so kind of you and your friend to think we were. But for future reference child, Torchwood is not but a ghost story," he raised the gun aiming at my chest. "It's always a shame when young people go poking around where they don't belong. Hanley made off with one of my beasties and called the authorities but couldn't control it so that took care of him. What'll it take to keep you quiet, huh?"

"You can start by laying down your weapon, sir," I said through gritted teeth.

"Now why would I do that?"

"I'll shoot you," I bluffed.

"No you won't," he said walking around the car so he was between me and the driver's side door. "Shoot me and you definitely die," the man in the passenger seat of the jeep pulled out a gun with a silencer on it. "Now listen good ma'am, Cardiff has itself a bit of an infestation. These things are running amuck in the sewers. Now once a month my staff move five of these beasties here to my personal park if you will. It makes good sport no one gets hurt and I help with the infestation. Now Hanley decided he was better than me and called up the authorities to tell them what a horrible monster I am. My beastie silenced him. This other one silenced your friend. Now considering the investment this park represents I'll give you until tomorrow morning to find your way back to the gates. I'll take your car. There are three more beasties out here and given the standard caliber of gun policemen use you have two shots left. Better make them count."

"You can't leave me here? That's manslaughter at least," he turned away and climbed into the car and started the engine. "Look we can come up with a story. My partner and I came out here, I don't know, for a snog after work where no one might catch us some feral dogs killed him you only owned the place. No one has to know. It was all an accident."

"Good luck ma'am. I don't recommend you waste any of them bullets on me. Your aim was a bit off," and he drove away. I could hear a weevil's roar somewhere behind me and I start sprinting after the cars. They turned a corner and were gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5) The Hunt**

The car was gone almost as soon as I started running but that didn't stop me from listening and pursuing. It didn't take long for all sounds of the retreating vehicles to disappear. I retraced my steps back to the warehouse to look for myself and find out if Carwyn was dead. I'd heard him scream just before the weevil came out of the warehouse but I hadn't seen or heard him since. I checked my cell phone for a signal but there was none. I imagine Jungle Jim had something to do with that. However, it was not completely useless I turned up the brightness on the phone and when I got to the warehouse used it as a makeshift flashlight.

"Carwyn?" I whispered not wanting to draw attention to myself either by the guards or by the weevils wherever they may be. The light cast by the screen was enough to see about a foot or so in front of me. I could see that the ground was filthy but devoid of any signs that this place was inhabited. No rat droppings and no litter. I decided to head towards the red light. As I got closer I could make out the bars of a small cage. The gate on the cage was open. Clearly this was where they detained the creature. As I directed the light at the floor closer I found a puddle, a glistening dark puddle that something had been dragged through. I stopped and took three deep breathes trying to steady my pulse before following the dark trail. I listened carefully for any signs I wasn't alone.

"Carwyn?"

"Anwen…" I lowered my gun hand and jogged towards him. Carwyn had propped himself up against a wall and appeared to have a chest wound. "I'm sorry An. I thought it was Torchwood, I thought it was Torchwood asking us out here. I'm so sorry," he wept.

"Hush, no talk like that. You couldn't have known. Did anyone else at the station know we were coming out here?"

"I, I told the sergeant but she didn't ask about where," he winced as he pulled the GPS from his coat pocket. "I think we can find the way out with this."

"Did you hear when I was talking with that man earlier?"

"No."

"Well he said that there are more of those monsters out there. Weevils I believe they are called but I'm short on bullets, did you bring your gun?" I asked.

"Yes but I left it in the car."

"Ok, you've lost some blood, can you walk?"

"I can try, help me up." I wrapped one of his arms around my neck and hoisted with all my strength but when he got on his feet he blacked out and collapsed against me. I lowered him to the ground and took off my coat and used it to stop the bleeding. He reopened his eyes but began to weep again.

"Stop crying you need to save your fluids," I tried to sound confidant or at least calm but I was unconvincing. I looked at the GPS and contracted the image to give a view of the entire fenced in industrial park. We were near the heart but if I could get to the fence finding the way out would be fast and relatively painless. "If we can get you into the cage then you should be safe from the weevils until I can return with help."

"What? You want to leave me here to die?" he screeched.

"You fainted when you stood up Carwyn I don't like this idea any more than you do…"

"Oh of course not your idea only involves you escaping with your life while I'm left here in the dark with those monsters…" he stopped looking off over my shoulder. The hair on the back of my neck began to rise. I could hear my heart beating in my ears, Carwyn's labored breathing, and somewhere behind me a snuffling. Like a dog caught on the scent of meat. I turn my head slowly and in the corner of my eye I could see a figure about six feet tall and thick in the shoulders. It turned its head and I could see the long flat face of a weevil snorting and inhaling deeply.

"Shoot it, Anwen," Carwyn whispered. I rotated slowly on the balls of my feet hardly daring to breathe and line up a shot. I swiped sweat from my brow and aim for the head. "Anwen, what are you waiting for shoot it?"

I squeezed the trigger but I was too scared to commit, to fire. All I could hear was its sniffing and all I could think was what the man had said about my aim. The weevil snarled and began a charge. I stood feet planted firmly gun aimed.

"Shoot it Anwen! What are you waiting for?" Carwyn screams behind me.

"A closer shot!" I snapped back at him. I squeezed and felt the kick of the gun in my hands. The weevil howled head jerking backwards but it continued to charge.

"God, why won't it stop?" I shrieked looking at the gun then up at the weevil. My mind was racing. To shoot again or not to shoot? The gap between the weevil and us was closing rapidly but the beast was clearly wounded. Its breathing more ragged its gait clumsier.

"SHOOT IT!" Carwyn howled.

_Bang_. The gun shot rang out it the empty darkness and the beast pitched forward. The weevil's blood began pooling, so close it touched my runners. But it wasn't the weevil I was looking at. I didn't need the light to tell who was in the doorway. He started walking towards us, hands buried in his pockets, military coat swaying with each stride.

"You can lower your gun now officer, its dead," the American said.

"Am I to think your being here is a coincidence?" I asked watching him closely and he stepped around the creature, looking down with an expression of pity on his face almost sadness.

"I wouldn't expect you too," he said looking at the beast. "Your aim wasn't the problem. Westney is pumping them full of drugs, basalts we believe; before he lets them loose it makes them erratic and they don't feel the pain. Your shot went through the skin on the head but only grazed the brain in a lobe that is irrelevant to movement. Once he charged he wasn't going to stop until his heart did or you severed the spinal cord, which is what my shot did. Put the poor creature out of its misery."

"Poor creature! Are you mad?" Carwyn demanded from the floor. The American looked down at him as if only just noticing he was there.

"Who are you?" I asked losing patience.

He extended his hand with a smile, "Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood."


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6) Captain Jack Harkness**

"Don't piss around with me. It's been a long couple of days and Captain Jack Harkness ought to be at least in his fifties by now. Who are you really?" I said glaring at the man over the barrel of my gun. He stopped smiling and drew his hand back then studied me curiously.

"What do you know about Jack Harkness?"

"Andy Davidson is good friend of my family's. I've been hearing that name all my life so the truth now, yeah?" We just stared at each other for a long minute. He didn't say anything but he studied me with a guarded expression.

"Your friend needs some help. Just know I don't work for Westney and trust me when I say I want to help you get out of here alive," he said. I glanced down at Carwyn who was looking awfully pale and I put my gun away feeling defeated. It was trust this strange man or doom us both and I couldn't be pig-headed with Carwyn's life at stake.

"Help me get him off the floor," I said kneeling and draping one of Carwyn's arms across my shoulders.

"Yes ma'am," he said switching back to that cool smile. When he knelt to help with Carwyn I noticed his head set.

"Do you have a signal in here? The cell phones don't work," I asked as we hoisted Carwyn to his feet. His eyes rolled and he went limp but with the extra help we managed to drag him to the door. I kept one hand firmly pressed on Carwyn's wound to stop the flow of blood.

"It's not cellular. Think of it as more of a small radio device. Its operating at a different frequency than the cell signals so whatever Westney is using to stop you from calling for help isn't affecting the way I communicate with my team," he explained. We got out of the warehouse and the sun was hanging low in the sky. A few more minutes and the buildings on the west side of the park will blot it out entirely. He reached his free hand up and touched the little device and said, "I need Robyn and the van at…"

He glanced around as if trying to find a landmark to describe to whoever was listening. I pulled out the GPS and read out the coordinates. He smiled and repeated them into the device.

"Who is that?"

"If I told you you'd tell me I'm lying."

"How many of you are here?"

"Robyn is our medic, then there are two others here in the industrial park and we have a satellite office out in New York which has a team of six now I think," he answered glancing around. "We operate better in smaller groups there is also less liability. It's hard to find people you can trust."

"If you're Torchwood then tell me what that creature is called," I demanded.

"That's classified," he answered lowering Carwyn to the ground to inspect the wound in the light.

"Bullocks, that thing tried to kill me and my friend. Tell me what it is called and then I'll trust you," I responded. He removed my coat from Carwyn's wound and I gagged. In the light it was clearly much more serious. The flesh at the base of his neck was torn but somehow the beast had missed any arteries or veins so Carwyn hadn't bled out instantly. However, there was a stink and it was still bleeding profusely.

"What do you think they are called?"

"You tell me first or else I won't know if you're just pulling my leg."

"You really have trust issues you know that?"

"Yes."

"We call them weevils. Is that the answer you're looking for?" the man answered recovering the wound with my coat. "They live in the sewers of Cardiff and every so often one of them goes rogue and comes to the surface. Even less often someone goes into the sewers and finds them. Satisfied?"

"Yes actually that's perfect. So… you weren't lying then you are affiliated with Torchwood?"

"How does calling those monsters weevils make me Torchwood? How do you know that weevil isn't some pet name Westney gave them and I'm not just a parroting staff member?" he asked crossing his arms across his chest. He was a tall man, taller than me at least and judging by his aura he was not used to getting questioned like this.

"Because if Westney is the guy dressed like he's on a safari in Kenya then he just calls them 'the beasties'. Man, probably doesn't have sense god gave an orange. Davidson confirmed that the original Torchwood institution called those creatures weevils when I spoke with him yesterday."

"You seem to put an awful lot of faith in this Davidson fellow's opinion," he said glancing back and forth, head tilted as if listening.

_It's not Davidson I'm putting my faith in but the truth sounds half mad. Relying on the words of a man suffering with dementia and bed-time stories from my deceased mother._

"I'm putting a lot of faith in you right now. You could kill me, abandon me when the other two weevils show up, or leave Carwyn and me to the mercy of a man who kills for sport," I retorted looking at Carwyn's face. My stomach knots. He's so pale. I always used to tease him about being albino, white boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. You'd lose him in a blizzard, I'd said once. I didn't think he could get much paler.

"Never. We are the good guys, Anwen," he said winking.

"How did you know that?"

"Know what?"

"My name. I didn't tell you my name…"

The black SUV came tearing around the corner then and screeched to a stop a few feet away. I thought I saw a look of relief on the captain's face but didn't stop to interrogate him further. The woman from Hanley's hopped from the driver's seat with a medical bag in hand.

"Hello, Dr. Robyn Brown I hear we have a weevil attack," she said shaking my hand then going straight to Carwyn. Robyn appeared to be in her mid thirties a beauty by anyone's standards dark hair pulled into a messy bun, dark intelligent eyes, and a face models would pay thousands for.

"Dylan, Marnie, update me now," the captain barked into his head set.

I didn't hear the response but his expression changed. He darted to the SUV and threw open the back. A moment later he slapped a gun into my hands.

"Robyn, stay here with the SUV and look after Carwyn. Anwen, with me," he said striding away.

"Jack, what should I do if any weevils show up?" Robyn asked.

"Move the patient into the SUV so if necessary you can drive away. Worst case scenario we can meet by our entrance point. We know where Westney and his staff are hiding out. Dylan and Marnie are occupied so we need to get to the control center now," I glanced back to see Robyn moving Carwyn and then jogged after Jack. I didn't look back again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7) The Element of Surprise**

"So they're in there?" I asked peaking around the edge of the building. It looked just as abandoned and defiled as all the other grey structures around the industrial park. "How do you know?"

"This is our second time here in the past forty eight hours. Last time we found a control center in there. Hanley tipped us off. They have computers hooked up to cameras in the various holding cells around the park. We would have dealt with things then but then we got the call that Hanley had decided to kidnap a weevil he couldn't control," Jack said fidgeting with a device. I peaked over his shoulder trying to figure out what he was doing but it looked like nothing I'd ever seen before.

"What's the plan here? Are we arresting them? Does Torchwood have that authority?" I asked.

"Torchwood has the authority to do what is necessary to keep extraterrestrial phenomenon hidden from the public. What we are going to do is stun the staff if necessary and shut down the computer system so that they cannot continue after we leave. In another time we might have locked Westney up for his crimes but to do that would require a massive cover up. The man is connected and wealthy people would notice if he disappeared," he held up the device and pressed a few buttons. The screen flared to life and it took me a moment to realize what it was showing.

"Is that like x-ray vision?"

"Yes, Marnie likes to call it superman-spyglass. Our technical expert is not a fan of technical terminology. You can adjust the strength to see through clothes, care to see?" he asked. I just glared at him. "So we have three guards in the building, all armed with rifles and Westney, also armed."

"They must have parked my car around here. I could radio for help and we can have Westney arrested."

"On what charges? The cops will never know about the aliens, we see to that, and if a feral dog attacked Carwyn you can't charge him for a stray being on his property."

"So, Torchwood deals with aliens."

"What did you think weevil's were?"

"I don't know. It's just sounds so mad when you say it out loud."

"Anwen, I'll be happy to answer your questions later but for right now I need you to focus, do as I say and if you see anything 'mad' just accept it."

"You promise to explain later?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Then tell me what to do."

Jack opened the warehouse doors and in the dim light of the evening he could see Carwyn's car parked inside guarded by a single man with a rifle. Jack raised his pistol and the guard froze, caught off guard.

"Lay down your gun and I won't shoot you," Jack said calmly. The guard slowly obeyed laying the rifle on the floor with his hands raised. I open the second door completely and stun the man from behind. He convulsed and fell unconscious. It was underhanded but I could understand the necessity there was nothing to stop the man from notifying his colleagues the second we were out of sight.

"Human design, huh?" I said gesturing around the warehouse.

"A gun for every occasion and no less than two entrances to every warehouse," he said smiling, taking the rifle from the unconscious man and pulling out a hypodermic needle.

"What's that for?"

"Retcon. He will wake up in four hours and wonder what the hell he's been up to the past three months."

"An amnesia drug? You are going to erase three months of this man's life?" I ask appalled.

"No he just won't remember anything to do with the weevils or Torchwood, its selective amnesia. If his sister got married yesterday he'll remember the wedding, if he shot an alien yesterday he won't remember the encounter," Jack said injecting the man in the arm and the straightening.

"Well that's handy, wouldn't have minded a little retcon for my mates in high school." He laughed at that and we continued on. Jack had his pistol raised and before opening any doors or climbing any stairs I'd investigate with the spyglass.

The second guard was on the next floor up from the garage. We couldn't use the same technique twice because Jack refused to separate once we were inside the building. "In case you need a human shield," he'd said.

"You know chivalry is dead," I'd responded.

"So is the lady too good for her armor," he answered.

As much as I loathed admitting it I was starting to like this alleged Jack Harkness. Whoever he really was, he was great under pressure, I might have forgotten I was fighting for my life and the freedom of innocent weevils.

We stood by the door and I watched the guard pacing the hall he turned a corner and Jack eased the stairwell door open making as little sound as possible. I directed the spyglass and could see that the man hadn't heard the door open. We crept down the hall and stopped at the edge of the corner. Jack and I watched the screen of the spyglass the guard stopped touched his ear and turned, sprinting down the corridor.

"Fuck they have cameras," Jack whispered. The guard got to the corner and Jack lunged knocking the rifle from the man's hand and stunning him with the gun. He quickly injected the man in the throat and turned to me. "Where are Westney and the third guard?"

"I'm looking," I said pointing the spyglass at the ceiling and adjusting the strength of the rays emitted.

"Well?"

"They're gone."

Jack took the spyglass and did his own search.

"Fuck, there was a fire escape on the third level," he shoved the spyglass into my hands and sprinted back down the hall in the direction we'd come from. I follow but his legs are longer than mine and to be frank he is in better shape.

"Jack slow…"

I heard the explosion of a gunshot as I loped down the stairs back to the garage. I quickly drew my gun, opened the door and I stopped. Westney was standing on the opposite end of the warehouse, open doors behind him rifle aimed and Jack was lying on the floor. Blood bloomed from the hole in his chest like a rose.

"I hope you two weren't close. I sincerely can't stand the wailing of women," Westney said.

"Lay down your arms, sir," I bellowed.

"Ah, so you're that type. No wailing for the lady cop. Crying is weak isn't it, no when you're upset you get loud, you get angry," he taunted. I cocked my gun and aimed at his chest which made him bark with laughter.

"Are you going to shoot me, woman? Avenge his death? No, no if you were the type to kill you'd have done it already. It's a shame about your aim. When you two first appeared on the monitors I'd been so hopeful. I thought you'd be a…"

_Bang_. Westney collapsed, blood leaked from his temple. I looked at my gun then up and saw Westney's final guard putting away a hand gun.

"I don't know who you people are but I didn't sign up for this bullshit," he said climbing into Westney's jeep. "The keys to your car are in the control room. I'm sorry."

He drove away.

I threw down my gun and ran to Jack's side.

"Bastard Jack Harkness," I screamed as I felt for a pulse. When I found none I started chest compressions, my mind was whirling, and the world seemed to be covered in blood. I pinched his nose and exhaled into his mouth. I checked his pulse and restarted the chest compressions. I thought about the questions I'd wanted to ask him, I thought about the things I'd seen, and for reasons I don't understand I thought of the sad man wearing a long coat on my porch when I was a child.

"Fuck you Jack Harkness," I spat before breathing into him again. It was hopeless, there was so much blood the bullet surely went straight into his heart. After two minutes I stopped and check his pulse one more time. He was dead. He was dead before I'd even entered the warehouse. I pulled my knees to my chest and squeezed my eyes shut.

_Don't go looking for Torchwood. Jack Harkness is trouble. Everyone dies…_

Carwyn was going to live. For all the blood and stench of the weevil bites they were flesh wounds. This was permanent. This was death.

"I don't even know if Jack is your real name," I whispered touching his hair.

There was a low rumbling sound and I turned my head slowly to see a weevil standing over Westney's body. It snorted and looked at me, pulling back it lips in a hideous grimace.

"Fuck," I dove for my gun as the thing began to charge. I turned and fired. The weevil jerked backwards as the bullet penetrated its neck and severed the spinal cord before it collapsed. Jack bolted upright gasping for air.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8) Lonely**

I leaned against the metal railing, biting my thumb nail anxiously and watched as Robyn worked at stitching up an unconscious Carwyn. I know my partner's life should be my main concern right now and don't get me wrong I am concerned but I couldn't keep my eyes from drifting to the dead man standing beside me. He was stoic as he watched the procedure, expression unchanging, eyes locked on the work of the doctor. He'd changed his shirt already. The one that had been soaked in his blood incinerated and explained away to a frantic Robyn as belonging to Westney.

The hub was spectacular. More of what I'd expected than the dingy warehouses. The ceiling was at least fifty feet high and heavily reinforced, there were more computer monitors and technical equipment just in the main room than in the entire police department. Marnie and Dylan a couple of technical analysts (and lovers if my intuition is on its mark) who seemed to be constantly in some disagreement or another wasted no time in offering to give me a tour once it became clear that I understood what Torchwood was.

Marnie and Dylan were polar opposite. Marnie was a complete punk rocker complete with tattoos streaks in her hair and multiple facial piercings. She was the sort my parents would have made me cross the street to avoid as a child but she was bubbly and sweat and first to congratulate me on killing an alien. Dylan on the other hand was grey. If he were a cartoon they'd have drawn him grey he wore suits of black and white with a black tie, he was constantly pushing the glasses up on his nose as they kept sliding and when he first saw me he looked away and mumbled. He was most animated with Marnie around, talking, laughing and even being the one to extend the offer of a tour.

I tried to be swept up in the wonder of the place to be interested in these people, the sorts my Mum might have worked with, or at least to be able to give my undivided attention to Carwyn but I couldn't. After Jack woke up he'd barely looked at me. Barely spoken beyond giving an order or checking to ensure I hadn't been hurt. The easy calm, the laughing, the joking was all gone because now things were different. I'd seen something I really wasn't supposed to.

Robyn finished taping down the bandages, injected something into Carwyn's arm and straightened her back.

"There, I'll admit it was touch and go for a while there but he is a resistant one. He will make a full recovery and won't remember a thing," she said smiling up at me.

"Retcon right?"

"That's right," she answered.

"Won't he wonder how he got hurt?"

"He will think you two made the drop a rabid dog attacked, and then he went to the hospital and was taken care of," she answered.

"I already fixed the hospital records confirming he was there," called Marnie from her desk. I looked at all the faces around me taking them in Marnie's smile, Robyn's reassurance, Dylan's shy distance, and Jack's lack of expression.

"Now what about me?" I asked. Marnie's smile fell away, Dylan looked at her, Robyn broke eye contact and Jack turned to face me. I looked into his eyes and tried to dig. Tried to see what he was thinking. "I was there. I saw the aliens. I know about Torchwoood. About you," I gave a pointed look to Jack.

"Follow me," he said striding away.

"Where?" I called after him. I looked to the others, Robyn shrugged and Marnie just looked sad now.

"Better just follow him," Dylan said so I grabbed my coat and jogged after him. He was out the door already and striding into the street.

"Where are you going?" I asked when I caught up with him.

"To get something to eat besides pizza. Maybe some Chinese, no I eat too much Chinese already, are you hungry? Any suggestions?"

"Are you still offering to answer my questions or what?"

"Yes but I think difficult answers go down better with alcohol, maybe we skip the food and grab a drink? It's up to you," he said smiling.

"I'm not hungry," I said as we approached the SUV.

"I am. Dying is hungry work," he said climbing in the driver's side.

I stopped walking and stared. I know what Dad and Andy would want me to do here. To not get in the car. To not ask the questions. To walk away and forget tonight like Carwyn was bound to. But I'm my mother's daughter and so I climb in the passenger side and buckle my seat belt.

"There is a place south of here that has great chips, or do you need to worry about your figure?"

He laughed at that and we started driving away.

I chose a seat by the window and watched as Jack picked up our drink orders from the man behind the counter. His body blocked my view but then he turned a smile on his face and he handed me my lemonade. By my choice we are forgoing the alcohol. I wanted a clear head for this conversation.

"So where would you like to begin? Ask anything you'd like."

"Your team at Torchwood, they don't _know_ about you do they?"

"No. It freaks people out so I like to keep it a secret as long as possible although with a job like Torchwood they tend to figure it out eventually. The record I believe for longest time taken to figure out Jack can't die is about four years."

"So when you say you can't die…"

"I've been shot, drowned, suffocated, burned, hacked, electrocuted, stabbed, blown up, and hurdled through a vortex in time and space. I die I just don't stay dead," he answered taking a drink. "I kind of wish they served alcohol here."

"Are you an alcoholic?"

"That's your second question?"

"Are there a limited number of questions?"

He laughs, "No I'm not an alcoholic."

"The first step, Jack, is admitting you have a problem," I said serious face on, touching his hand but I can't hold a straight face and we both laugh at that. "You don't grow old."

"No, I don't age at all. I've worked for Torchwood since, oh I forget the year but it was definitely during the reign of Queen Victoria."

"Oh my god, how old are you?"

"You'd never believe me."

"So you _were_ my Mum's Captain Jack Harkness," I said turning my drink around in my hands.

"Yes, your Mum was a dear friend of mine."

"My Dad seems to think you were going to run away with her."

"That's not a question."

"Were you sleeping with my Mum?" I asked. All joking gone from my voice.

"Here I thought you'd want to ask me about the aliens."

"Answer the question, Jack."

He paused looking at me before answering, "No, I never slept with your Mum. But you know what? Probably the first thing Rhys asked me after finding out about Torchwood was 'any chance you're gay?' I suppose you take after him in that respect. You're more interested in who's in my bed than with aliens underfoot."

"That's not fair. My Dad has Alzheimer's and can't remember who I am half the time and my Mum died when I was six. I just want to understand why he says the things he does."

"And how do you know I'm not lying?"

"Because there is retcon in my lemonade," I answered. His eyes widened a bit and that made me feel smug. I picked up the drink and swirled it around listening to the ice clang together. "Why bother coming up with a lie when I won't remember in the morning anyway?"

"Anwen, listen…"

"I'm not arguing with you, I'll drink this if I need to. Just… how did my mother die?"

"We were trying to stop an invasion. Some aliens called Daleks arrived in Cardiff. They are emotionless, they know only how to do as they are commanded and they were commanded to kill humans. There were only three but your mother was not the only death. Thirty civilians and half of Torchwood died that day. Gareth and Jan also died. I don't know if you can remember them but we all came to your third birthday. It was supposed to be the last time you had any contact with Torchwood. Studies show that it's around three that the things you see begin to be imprinted on your memory."

"Why Cardiff? Why not London? Why do all these things happen here in Cardiff?"

"Cardiff is on a rift in space and time. Torchwood three exists to monitor the rift and scavenge alien technologies left behind. Sometimes aliens from different worlds fall through. Sometime people from different times. The Daleks that came through and killed your mother were trying to open the rift to allow thousands more to come through. You're mother lost her life saving the human race from extermination."

I blinked. I hadn't realized my eyes were tearing up until it was too late and they were spilling over. I grabbed a napkin and wiped them away angrily. I hated crying in public. I hated to appear weak. I took a deep rattling breath and put down the napkin.

"So, cheers. To my Mum, a hero," I said lifting the lemonade. I hesitated, building my resolve. I was going to throw it back like a shot when Jack grabbed my wrist and took the cup from me.

"What are you doing?" I asked when he threw the cup into a waste bin.

"Breaking the rules," he said. He crossed the room and got our food from the man behind the counter then sat down across from me and popped a chip in his mouth.

"I thought…"

He grabbed a napkin and a pen from his pocket. He scribbled down a phone number.

"I've lived a long time. I regret a lot of things. I have your number from when Marnie and Dylan checked out your personnel files earlier. Here is my private number. If you ever want to talk about anything you call me. It's been a long time since I've had a friend. Coworkers, plenty but the last time I had anyone to really talk to about what happens with Torchwood was when your Mom was around. I'm not offering you a job with Torchwood, I don't think Gwen or Rhys would thank me for that but I can offer you friendship

"No job offer and no retcon? I get the feeling this doesn't happen often."

"Nope, you'd be the second. So can I drive you home after?"

"Only if you pay for the drink," I said relief washing over me. I never wanted to forget the things I'd learned the past few days. The world seemed bigger and more complicated than before.

**For more of Anwen and Jack please read: **

**2) The Slitheen Take Cardiff**

**3) Child of Torchwood**

**I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction**

**I own none of the rights to the characters and I acknowledge the fact that I am taking some liberties with Torchwood's history to construct these stories in Cardiff**


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